Family ties
by Viscountess Babbles-On
Summary: This is a prequel to 'Inwhich they stare alot' For further info, read author's note. Be warned: is slash.
1. Default Chapter

All hail the great and mighty fanfic readers! Erm, yes. really, I'm not crazy. But I did think a note was required at the beginning of this post. Just to straighten everything out. This (these) story(s) is a ... ermm, that's too confusing. Let me start again.  
  
Let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start. When you read, you begin with ABC. When you write you begin by explaining how the whole thing fits together.  
  
There're actually two stories here that take place two years apart. The first is a tale of Draco and Harry and a turn that their relationship takes.  
  
The second is about Draco discovering the relationship of Harry and Severus.  
  
Confused yet? Here, let me put it in a timeline with the other stories in the series:  
  
Early fifth year: 'The ties that bind.'  
  
Early seventh year: 'The staring begins.'  
  
November seventh year: 'The consequences of walking in unannounced.'  
  
Christmas seventh year: there may or not be a story forth coming here  
  
April and end of seventh year: 'In which they stare a lot.'  
  
Got all that? Good.  
  
Now all I have to do is write the standard disclaimer that we all know and wish didn't actually exist:  
  
Harry Potter is not mine. Draco Malfoy is not mine. I plan on kidnapping Severus Snape, but he is not mine yet either. And last, but not least, Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is not mine, but just as soon as I have enough money, I'm going to buy it.  
  
And now, without further ado, go read the stories. Or. not. Whatever tickles your fancy. 


	2. The ties that bind

The ties that bind.  
  
Harry Potter had managed to fool his best friends Hermione and Ron into beleiving that he had dealt with the death of Cedric Diggory. When he had seen them on the train on September the first, at the beginning of the fifth year, he had told them he had done a lot of thinking over the summer break and managed to put the whole Third Task behind him.  
  
He consoled himself that it wasn't a complete lie. He *had* thought a lot over the holidays. In fact, he had done little else. The Dursleys had taken it into their heads that the best way to deal with Harry was to ignore him completely. As a result, Harry had spent his unwanted free time reliving, over and over again, the horrible events of the last year.  
  
Now back at Hogwarts for the fifth year, everybody was going about life as usual. To the naked eye. Ron and Hermione either didn't notice or choose to ignore the fact that took Harry a littler longer than it used to, to react to their presence. At first, Harry had felt as though he were sitting outside himself, watching through fogged glass as his body went through all the motions; he had to force himself to laugh. For the first few days, the fifteen-year-old found himself concentrating twice as hard to follow the simplest of conversations.  
  
But slowly, he came back to himself. And it felt like he was gradually waking up from a deep and troubled sleep. He began to notice things again. He noticed the unconscious gap in the world that Cedric should have filled. He noticed the distracted air of the faculty. Peeves was abnormally subdued and the ghosts moved about the halls as though on patrol. Harry noticed the covert glances the professors darted in his direction, as if to confirm he was still there.  
  
But most of all, he noticed that Draco Malfoy was missing something. There was something different about him. The Slytherin still went out of his way to insult Hogwarts' 'Golden Boy', but whenever he did, Harry noticed that his voice was oddly flat and his smirk never reached his eyes anymore. More than once, Harry had caught a flash in those silver eyes that had hinted at some deep emotional trauma.  
  
Harry took to covertly watching his. Well, it didn't feel right to call Draco his enemy any more. The fight seemed to have leached out of the boy. Draco didn't talk as much any more. At meals, he would let his fellow Slytherins chatter away and simply watch them intently. Even from the other side of the room, Harry could see something glitter in his eyes, almost as if Draco knew something nobody else did and it pained him.  
  
Harry had seen Draco stop suddenly in the halls and looked around, a confused look on his face. He appeared, for all the world, to be looking for something he could never find, and couldn't even quite remember losing in the first place.  
  
After watching Draco for a week, Harry suddenly realised what it was that was lacking in the demeanour of the Slytherin: confidence. Somehow, sometime over the summer holidays, Draco's confidence had been broken. Someone had managed to break the inherent Malfoy confidence that, until this year the scion of that house had exuded with every step. And the thought scared Harry. Whatever had done it, it had to be monstrously powerful to shake Draco Malfoy of his self-assurance.  
  
  
  
It was the Saturday of the fourth week back that Harry received the owl at breakfast. He had just taken his place at the Gryffindor table when a whoosh of wings announced the morning post. Harry so rarely got mail that he ignored the daily ritual until a letter dropped into his pumpkin juice.  
  
Quickly fishing it out, Harry opened it.  
  
Harry,  
  
Please attend a meeting in my office at ten today. Inform no one, as this meeting is of a sensitive nature.  
  
Albus Dumbledore.  
  
Harry darted a glance at Ron and Hermione. Fortunately, Ron had received a letter from his mother and Hermione was poring over the latest edition of the Daily Prophet and neither had noticed Harry also had mail. Perplexed, Harry glanced back down at the note. As he watched, the note disintegrated in his hands.  
  
What could Dumbledore mean by 'a sensitive nature'? Harry lightly touched his scar. It couldn't possibly be something to do with Voldemort, could it? He fervently hoped not. Surely it was too soon for the Dark Lord to be mounting another attack.  
  
Harry fretted over Dumbledore's possible meaning all the way back to the common room with Ron and Hermione. Ron quickly struck up a game of wizarding chess with Colin Creevey and Hermione, naturally, dove straight into her homework. Harry sat at the table with Hermione and stared blankly at his Divinations homework. Try as he might, he simply couldn't concentrate on making dire predictions on his own life. His eyes kept straying to the clock.  
  
Finally, at ten to ten, he stood up. Disturbed by his sudden movement, Hermione paused in her work.  
  
'Where are you going, Harry?'  
  
'Just for a walk. I need some fresh air.'  
  
'Hang on a second and I'll come with you,' Hermione started to roll up the parchment she had been working on.  
  
'No!' Hermione shot Harry a startled glance, and he had to think quickly, 'ahh.. That is.. If you don't mind, Hermione, I'd like to go by myself,' Harry gestured weakly, 'you know, so I can just think a bit.'  
  
After staring intently at Harry for a moment, a concerned expression on her face, Hermione finally nodded, 'Well have fun. Just don't over load your poor brain.'  
  
Harry gave a weak laugh at Hermione's small joke. Checking that Ron was thoroughly embroiled in his game of chess and wouldn't take it in to his to follow him, Harry left the common room.  
  
Harry had reached the entrance to Dumbledore's office before he realised the headmaster hadn't given him the password. He was staring blankly at the gargoyle guarding the door, trying to decide which confectionery it might be this week, when someone spoke behind him.  
  
'I don't think it's very impressed by your stare, Potter.'  
  
Harry spun around. Draco Malfoy lounged against the wall opposite him. The trade mark smirk was plastered to his lips, but Harry noticed that, like always lately, it didn't reach the eyes.  
  
'You might try the password.'  
  
'What are you doing here, Malfoy?' Harry tried to sound menacing, but the comment came out more wearily than anything. He had lost all desire to fight with Malfoy.  
  
'I'm here to see the headmaster,' Draco pushed himself away from the wall and took a step towards Harry, 'the question is, what are *you* doing here?'  
  
Harry was about to retort when the gargoyle swung open behind him and Professor Dumbledore peered out.  
  
'Ah! Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy. Very prompt of you. Please, come in,' the professor's head disappeared back into the doorway and Harry could hear the whirring of the revolving staircase.  
  
Harry and Draco threw startled glances at each other. Why had they both been invited to the same meeting? Finally, Draco stepped back and mockingly gestured for Harry to proceed him. Harry accepted the invitation, however mocking, and stepped through the doorway, onto the bespelled stairs.  
  
Reaching the top, Harry proceeded through the door the headmaster had left ajar and into the office with all its portraits and silver devices. Dumbledore had taken a seat behind his desk, but he wasn't the sole occupant of the room. Opposite him, in the middle of three chairs that sat facing the desk was a stately woman dressed in black. Harry heard Draco enter the room behind him  
  
'Mother!' Harry turned at the odd note in the voice beside him and for the first time, saw Draco Malfoy with a genuine expression of surprise on his face. He was staring at the woman in the office. She turned and Harry layed eyes on the face of Mrs Narcissa Malfoy for the second time ever. Her son greatly resembled her, but there was something about her face that reminded Harry of someone he simply couldn't place at the moment.  
  
'Mother, what are you doing here?' Draco stepped past Harry and into the centre of the room.  
  
'Draco darling,' Narcissa raised a hand to her son, who stepped forward and, claiming it in his own, kissed the back lightly, before leaning forward and placing a warmer kiss on her cheek, 'I am here at the invitation of Professor Dumbledore.'  
  
'But -'  
  
Dumbledore interrupted here gesturing Draco to the seat on the far side of his mother, 'Mr Malfoy, if you would take a seat, we will explain shortly.'  
  
Turning to Harry, the professor beckoned him closer, 'Narcissa, I don't believe been formally introduced to Mr Potter.'  
  
Harry suddenly found himself the focus of a pair of pale green eyes that seemed vaguely familiar. Narcissa Malfoy half rose out of her chair and extended one graceful hand for Harry to take. Unfamiliar with formal courtesies, Harry simply shook the hand perfunctorily and dropped it.  
  
'Mrs Malfoy,' he murmured, rather self-consciously. She was staring at him, as so many people did when they first meet him. But, for once, it wasn't the scar that was getting stared at: she looked to be searching Harry's face for her memory of another. Finally, she dropped her eyes from his face.  
  
'Mr Potter, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.'  
  
Dumbledore gently cleared his throat. Narcissa glanced around and sat back down; Harry took the final remaining seat before the desk. Dumbledore fixed his half-moon glasses and peered over the top of them at his guests.  
  
'Now, Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy,' he deliberately meet their eyes, 'I have asked you both here today because Narcissa has a story to tell. Please keep your questions until she has finished.'  
  
Dumbledore nodded to Mrs Malfoy who took control of the meeting. She lifted a large book from the desk and placed it gently in her lap. She softly stroked the soft leather caressingly, and turned to Harry, her head tilted to the side.  
  
'Harry,' she said consideringly, 'Did you ever wonder why the Sorting Hat wanted to put you in Slytherin on your first day, despite the fact both your parents where Gryffindors?'  
  
Harry gaped at Narcissa; from her far side, he heard Draco gasp. He had never told even Ron and Hermione that the Sorting Hat had considered placing him in Slytherin House. In fact, the only person, besides himself, that knew was -  
  
Professor Dumbledore interrupted briefly to say, 'I deemed it necessary for Narcissa to know, Harry. I assure you, nothing bad will come of her knowledge.'  
  
Harry could only nod dumbly. Behind Mrs Malfoy, he could see Draco eyeing him curiously. The older Malfoy shifted, regaining Harry's attention and silently reminding him of her question.  
  
'I-- don't know. I guess I never thought of it that way-'  
  
Narcissa's expression said she hadn't really expected otherwise. 'It was likely because of the blood of your mother's father.'  
  
Narcissa flipped open the tome on her lap and beckoned Harry and Draco closer. They both dragged their chairs nearer to the women so they could see the book clearly. It was a photo album. Surprisingly, the photo on the first page was an ordinary muggle shot; it did not move at all. A tall man with blonde hair sat in a wing back chair, poring over a text open on the desk before him. Narcissa lightly touched the picture and continued, 'He was a Slytherin through and through.'  
  
Harry started and stared wide-eyed at the women beside him. He had always been told that his mother was muggle-born; born to two muggle parents. He was having trouble thinking coherently, and Draco beat him to the punch.  
  
'I thought Potter's mother was a mudblood.'  
  
Draco's mother snaked her head around and gave him a sever glare, 'Draco, if I *ever* hear you use that term again I'll hex you so badly, you won't want to *look* at a seat for a month.'  
  
Draco's eyes nearly popped out of his head at being rebuked so severely by the woman who usually doted on him. Harry would have laughed had he not been struck speechless at the revelation. Narcissa returned her attention to him.  
  
'Harry, dear, are you okay?'  
  
He managed a nod, 'But - I thought.. Why wasn't I told?'  
  
Narcissa looked down at the photo album. She touched the man in the photo again before turning the page. She tilted the album towards Harry, revealing the picture on this leaf. This one was wizard photo of a pretty young woman with bright auburn hair standing with her arm around the waist of the man from the muggle photo. Narcissa began to tell Harry about the photo.  
  
'Your mother's mother was a muggle. As a young woman, she meet a wizard. The wizard's wife had recently passed away in childbirth, leaving him with a babe to raise by himself. He hired your grandmother to care for the child. Eventually, the two fell in love and she became pregnant with your mother.'  
  
The next picture was of the same young woman, obviously pregnant this time. A tiny blonde girl had her hands resting on the woman's womb and was giggling at the gentle movements of the child within.  
  
'The wizard took his daughter and your grandmother to a country retreat and they stayed there until your mother was born.'  
  
The page turned again and now the young woman's womb was flat again and she was standing outside, in a spring grove. The blonde girl was standing next to her leaning into a baby carriage. When she emerged again, she was holding a red-haired baby and the young woman helped to lift the child.  
  
On the opposite page another picture showed the young woman a fourth time, still outside, but now the leaves were falling from the trees. As Harry watched, a red-haired baby crawled into the frame and the young woman bent and picked up the child. Straightening again, she turned and waved happily to whomever was taking the photo.  
  
Harry briefly tore his eyes from the pictures of his newfound family and looked across Narcissa. From the look on Draco's face, he had never since this album or its contents before, and it annoyed him. Narcissa turned the page again and Harry looked down at the new photo. The two children were sitting on a rug before a roaring fire. The blonde leaned over and kissed the younger girl's forehead. The child wrapped her arms around her sister's neck and hugged tightly.  
  
Narcissa went on with her tale, 'When Lillian was nine months old, the four of them returned to London and the wizard introduced your grandmother to his family. He had intended to marry her, but his family disapproved of a muggle marrying into the family.  
  
'He was not a brave man, to go against his own father's wishes. Although it tore him apart to do so, he decided it would be best for all involved if the relationship was ended, despite the child - despite the *children,*' Narcissa's voice turned slightly bitter, 'his first daughter had grown extremely fond of your grandmother. But.. He did what he thought was best.  
  
'He put a memory charm on her and returned, with only his first daughter, into the family fold,' the next page held another muggle photo. It was of the blonde child with tears streaming down her face, clutching a woman's embroidered kerchief. Narcissa had stopped talking. Harry ventured a question.  
  
'What happened to my mother and grandmother?'  
  
Narcissa shook herself, 'I believe the wizard had tampered with a few more lives then just your grandmother's. Anyway, not long after Lillian turned one, her mother married a muggle man, who adopted your mother. A year later, your aunt was born.'  
  
Narcissa passed the album over to Harry and indicated that he should continue to look at the pictures. As he turned the pages, he realised that all the photos were of his mother, and that most of them were taken clandestinely. They ranged from when she was eleven, shortly after she must have arrived at Hogwarts, up to several that must have been taken not terribly long before she was killed; these photos showed her holding a black haired baby that could only have been Harry himself.  
  
'Eventually, her father's blood showed through, and Lillian was invited to attend Hogwarts. Most of the rest, you already know.' Harry just nodded at Narcissa's last comment and continued to pore over the photos of his mother, especially the ones containing himself or his father. Draco's voice broke rudely through his contemplation.  
  
'Yes, it's all very nice to receive a lesson in Potter's personal history, but how does this concern you and I, Mother?'  
  
'Oh, don't you understand?' Narcissa reclaimed the photo album, and flipped to the first picture containing the blonde girl. She gently spread the book over her knees. Softly, she rested a finger on the cheek of the child; 'This is me.'  
  
She carefully meet first Draco's, then Harry's eyes, 'Lillian was my half sister.'  
  
Draco choked and Harry nearly fell out of his chair. Grey eyes caught on green, and the two students stared wide-eyed at each other for a long moment. Draco was the first to find his voice.  
  
'You mean to say that Golden Boy here and I are *cousins*?  
  
The tension between the boys was broken when Dumbledore chuckled, 'Yes, Mr Malfoy. You and Mr Potter are cousins.'  
  
Harry and Draco turned simultaneously to look at their headmaster. They stared at him for another long moment. Harry's hands started to tremble and he clenched them into fists on his knees. They hadn't told him. The Dursleys weren't his only family, and they *hadn't* *told* him. Suddenly, Harry found himself on his feet, yelling at Professor Dumbledore.  
  
'You didn't *tell* me? How could you let me believe the Dursleys were my only family? I *should* have known all this since I was *born* and *you* *didn't* *tell* *me*? Is there anything else about me I should know?'  
  
Harry realised his wasn't the only raised voice in the office. Draco was on his feet yelling too, at his mother, at Harry's *aunt*.  
  
'Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy,' Professor Dumbledore's voice was more ominous then anything either boy had ever heard as it cut through their tirades, 'Sit down.'  
  
Harry and Draco stopped yelling but did not sit back down. Hands trembling in fists at their sides, they glared mutinously at the headmaster. Dumbledore sighed somewhat wearily as he spoke again.  
  
'If you would give Narcissa and I a chance, we will explain why you were never told. Now, please,' he gestured authoritatively at their seats, 'sit back down.'  
  
He stared Harry and Draco down until they reluctantly sat again.  
  
'Thank you. As it stands, only the four of us in this room know that you are cousins. Had the knowledge come out after your parents were killed, Harry, Lucius Malfoy would have petitioned the Ministry for custody of you. And he would have succeeded, he had that much influence. Now think for a moment, Draco, Harry. What do you suppose Lucius would have done had he gotten his hands on the boy who defeated his Dark Lord?'  
  
Although both Harry and Draco knew the answer, neither was willing to voice it. Eventually, it was Narcissa that spoke.  
  
'He would have handed you over to the Death Eaters, Harry, and you both know it.'  
  
Both students nodded dumbly, Harry's expression pained. Narcissa reached out a hand and laid it on his wrist.  
  
'Harry, never think I didn't want to take you in. I did.' When Harry looked up, she peered earnestly into his face, 'You were my little sister's baby. Of course I wanted you. But it wouldn't have been safe. Not for you, not for me. Not even for Draco.'  
  
Draco straightened in his chair, 'Father would never have hurt me.'  
  
Her hand still on Harry's arm, Narcissa turned to her son, 'Draco, don't be foolish. You know as well as I what Lucius would have done.'  
  
A haunted look entered Draco's eyes and he looked away. Harry strained to hear when Draco spoke in a weak whisper, 'He would have punished you for not telling him.. And he would have taken it out on me.'  
  
Harry shivered at the thought of a father treating his child in such a fashion. He shook himself and turned back to Dumbledore.  
  
'But, sir, if it was so dangerous then, and still is, why tell us now? Wouldn't it be safer not to tell us at all?'  
  
Draco looked up at his words and nodded his agreement. Dumbledore's expression turned grave.  
  
'After the Triwizard Tournament -' Harry flinched, '- and the events of the summer -' this time Draco flinched, and Harry wondered what Dumbledore was talking about, '- we thought you would both benefit from having someone you could safely speak to. Someone who could understand what it was like. You two suffered through similar situations.  
  
'The only other person to know what it is like to be confronted with the acts of the Death Eaters is Professor Snape, and I don't believe either of you will confiding in him just yet.' Harry was to busy staring at Draco, shocked at the realisation that he now had first-hand knowledge of the Death Eaters, to fully register Dumbledore's last comment, or the fact that the professor was regarding him with an odd, knowing expression.  
  
Dumbledore pushed back his chair, 'Now, you two have a lot to think about. Narcissa and I will leave you to your thoughts.'  
  
Offering his hand to Narcissa, he led her towards his private sitting room. He paused at the door and glanced back over his shoulder. His two students were sitting stock still in their chairs; their eyes distant and vaguely haunted as memories plagued them. He smiled grimly and turned away, closing the door softly behind him.  
  
Silence reigned in the headmaster's office. Neither knew what to say, or where to begin. Harry resolutely turned from memories he had relived too many times already and studied the blonde boy beside him. Draco was gazing out the window, but obviously not seeing the school grounds. His face was pale and his hands on his knees were trembling ever so slightly.  
  
Giving his cousin - an odd thought, to refer to Draco Malfoy as his cousin - his privacy, Harry turned his attention to the many portraits on the wall. He was trying to figure out when each had been head of the school based on their style of dress, when Draco's voice behind him made him jump.  
  
'Well. This changes things.'  
  
Harry turned back to the Slytherin. Draco was composed again, having obviously beaten back the haunting memories.  
  
'How so?'  
  
'Family loyalty and all that,' Draco gave a hollow laugh, his eyes suddenly pained, 'Father can't possibly expect me to kill my own cousin.'  
  
Harry flinched. With as many times as his life had been threatened, he was immune to the words. But not when they came from someone no older than himself; from someone he'd just found out was his cousin.  
  
Draco smirked grimly at his reaction, 'Don't worry. I never planned to kill you.'  
  
'Why not?' Harry had no idea what possessed him to press the subject.  
  
'Why?' Draco turned his strangely empty eyes on his cousin, 'I don't want to be like him. I don't *ever* want to be like.. that.' He had dropped his gaze and was staring a hole through the floor.  
  
'Like what?' asked the demon in control of Harry's tongue. He had the sudden urge to yell 'The devil made me do it!' It didn't matter anyway. Draco didn't answer, and it seemed he had no intention of doing so.  
  
Confused and unsure what to do, Harry returned to his diversion of minutely examining the office. To one side of Dumbledore's desk, Fawkes sat on his golden perch. Harry left his seat and went to greet the phoenix.  
  
'Hey Fawkes,' he murmured. Gently, he reached out and stroked the bird's head. Fawkes squawked indignantly when, after a long moment of silent caress, Harry was startled into petting to hard by Draco speaking again.  
  
'I don't want to be a Death Eater.'  
  
Slowly, Harry turned to see Draco gazing at him intently. Harry perched himself on the desk beside him.  
  
'But.. I thought..'  
  
Draco swallowed convulsively, 'Not any more.'  
  
He gripped the armrests tightly, and lay his head back on the headrest. Staring steadfastly at the ceiling, he began to speak. Harry shifted closer on the desk and listened intently. If Draco was going to talk, Harry was going to listen.  
  
'Father summoned me to his office when I returned home at the beginning of the summer. He told me that I was old enough to attend a Death Eater meeting.' Draco's face twisted in self-disgust, 'I was so excited, I couldn't wait. I fully intended to be the youngest ever Death Eater.  
  
'On the night of the first full moon, Father came for me. He gave me a set of black robes and a mask,' Harry grimaced at the memory of the faceless Death Eaters, 'We apparated to a cemetery somewhere. There were dozens of Death Eaters there, all dressed in black, all masked.  
  
'At first it wasn't so bad. Actually, it was pretty boring,' a grim smile flitted briefly across Draco's features, 'all they did was talk. About how great the Dark Lord was. About how evil they all were. About the plans You- Know-Who had for them. But at midnight, they brought out the 'entertainment'.  
  
Draco buried his face in his hands, elbows propped on his knees. His voice was strained as he continued.  
  
'That's what they actually called it. The 'entertainment'.' Draco raised his head, and Harry recoiled from the sickened expression in his eyes, 'They had a muggle family. Like at the World Cup, only.. worse.  
  
'They started throwing every curse I'd ever heard of at them. And many, many more. Anything, so long as they didn't die too soon.' Draco's hands were shaking in earnest now, and Harry had broken out in a cold sweat in sympathy, 'When they'd run out of curses, they resorted to physical abuse.  
  
'They.. they raped the parents. *Both* the parents, the father too. The children..' Harry found himself trapped in Draco's uncomprehending gaze, 'the little boy was a muggle-born wizard. He was only about four, but he kept shocking anybody who touched him. Harry - they overloaded him. They kept on pouring raw power into him. He was screaming and his mother was screaming, trying to get to him. Then there was this great flash of light and the little boy stopped screaming. I saw his eyes,' Harry shivered at the pained look in Draco's, 'there was nothing there. Just.. nothing. It's like.. like.. I don't know... it was... awful,' Draco settled for an inadequate description, unable to find anything better.  
  
'Then they let them go. Stripped them all naked and let them go. I thought it was finally over and I could go home and be sick. I was wrong. It was just more entertainment. They only let them go so that they could hunt them, like.. animals.' Draco pressed a hand to his mouth and Harry swallowed against the nausea rising in his throat. Reaching out hesitantly, Harry touched Draco's shoulder in scant comfort. Draco didn't speak for a long moment.  
  
'I don't ever want to be like that.' Draco looked up, composed again, '*Father*' -Draco made it sound like an epithet- 'took me to other meetings. I couldn't tell him I didn't want to go, that I wanted nothing to do with the Death Eaters. He would have killed me.'  
  
Harry unconsciously made a sound of disagreement low in his throat. Draco caught his eye, 'Yes, Harry. He *would* have killed me. He couldn't afford to have a 'traitor' in the family.'  
  
Draco rubbed his face wearily, 'Just before I left for school, he called me to his office again. He told me I'd proven myself 'stalwart', and that next summer the Dark Lord wanted to meet me in person. That I was to be initiated as a Death Eater.  
  
'I don't want to be a Death Eater,' Draco reiterated.  
  
Harry stared at him. ~ Well ~ he thought on a curious aside, ~ at least I now know what happened to his confidence. ~ He was starting to realise he had underestimated Draco. He had no idea what he was really like.  
  
Harry shifted from the desk to the chair beside Draco and set out to remedy this. He started to tell Draco what had happened after the Triwizard Cup had whisked Cedric and him away. He told him about the restoration ritual and the appearance of the Death Eaters, Draco's father among them. And about the echoes of his parents that had come out of Voldemort's wand.  
  
By the time he had finished, he was just as pale as Draco had been, and it was Draco's turn to rest a steadying hand on his shoulder. Severely shaken by reliving their respective experiences, the two fifteen-year-old lapses back into silence.  
  
They were still lost in their own thoughts when the door opened and Narcissa and Dumbledore returned. Both boys started when Dumbledore spoke.  
  
'I see you boys have had a heart to heart.'  
  
Silently, and with out looking at each other, they both nodded. Narcissa and Dumbledore smiled and nodded their own heads. Narcissa bent down and kissed her son's cheek. Then, to Harry's surprise and -evidently-Draco's as well, she kissed Harry's cheek also.  
  
Harry raised a bemused hand to his cheek and smiled faintly. He couldn't remember ever being kissed like that by a relation. He decided he rather liked it.  
  
Dumbledore was back behind his desk and beaming benignly at everybody in the room, Fawkes included.  
  
'Good.' He rubbed his hands together almost gleefully, 'Now, I believe you have both disappeared for long enough. I suggest you return to your common rooms, or perhaps take a walk about the grounds to clear your heads.'  
  
Both boys nodded and, still without a word, stood to leave. Draco leant down and kissed his mother's cheek, and Harry, greatly daring, did the same. He grinned when Narcissa smiled up at him, pleased at the gesture. He followed his cousin to the door. They were stopped there by a final comment from the headmaster.  
  
'I trust, Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy, you have come to appreciate the reason we chose to tell you only now?'  
  
They looked back over their shoulders at the professor, then at each other, considering. Draco knew what the Death Eaters were capable of, maybe more so than Harry, and Harry knew the true terror of Voldemort. No one else they knew, certainly no one their age, could appreciate the depth of the emotions evoked by such encounters. Curiously, Harry felt far better about the Third Task now then he had in all the months following it. And he realised now that it was because he had spoken of it to someone his equal, not his teacher, or his godfather. Just speaking of it to Draco had acted as a catharsis.  
  
From the expression in Draco's eyes, Harry could tell his half-cousin felt much the same. They reached a silent agreement, and saying not a word, nodded a final time at their headmaster, and made their way down the stairs.  
  
They paused just inside the gargoyle and Harry turned to look at Draco. He silently appraised the young man beside him in the new light of shared confidences and discovered relationship. Deciding he could easily grow to like what he saw, Harry offered his hand to Draco.  
  
'Friends?'  
  
Draco considered the hand warily and Harry knew he was remembering an incident five years earlier. Then it had been Draco offering the same thing and Harry had turned him down. Harry wondered now if he would be the one walking away disappointed this time.  
  
Then Draco took the pro-offered hand.  
  
'Well,' Draco allowed a lopsided smile to grace his lips, the first genuine smile Harry had ever seen from him, 'Cousins at least.' 


	3. The consequences of walking in unannounc...

The consequences of walking in unannounced.  
  
The frosty zephyr whispered down a cold stone hall of Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Tapestries stirred and torches flickered in its wake. The subjects of portraits lining the hall huddled back in their frames, drawing fur robes closer about their ears. The zephyr ignored the protests of icy suits of armour, and breezed on its way down the hall. Swirling about a window alcove, it stirred the white-blonde hair of the solitary figure standing there, before flitting on its way deeper into the castle.  
  
Draco Malfoy shivered lightly and tightened his scarf about his neck as icy fingers of air dipped beneath his collar. With one final glance beyond his reflection in the glass, the seventh year student turned from the window, a small smile lingering about his lips. As he moved down the hall, he let his gaze drift to the scene outside every window he passed. Through the frosted glass, Draco could make out the first snow fall of winter, his favourite time of year. Some would say this was because the cold season so well matched his own demeanour. And they would be right. Or at least they would have been, had they said it two years earlier.  
  
Until the fifth year, Draco Malfoy had been a cold, unfeeling person, and he still appeared to be the same. But appearances can be deceiving. In the last two years, he had changed for the better, and he had one person to thank for that: his cousin, Harry Potter.  
  
Or to be more accurate, his half-cousin. Neither Draco nor Harry had known that they were in any way related to one another until Headmaster Dumbledore had summoned them to his office near the beginning of their fifth year. There, in a meeting with Narcissa Malfoy, Dumbledore revealed the fact that Draco's and Harry's mothers had been half-sisters. Nobody knew this, not even Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father. And so, for the sake of the boys' safety, they had been sworn to secrecy.  
  
At first, neither boy had been sure what do with their newfound knowledge. After their initial encounter when they'd spoken of things they'd dare not tell any other, the two had steered well clear of each other. But over time, they had begun to talk. Slowly, a close friendship had developed to the point were Draco felt comfortable confessing close-held secrets to his cousin. And he liked to thing Harry felt the same way. He certainly hadn't been backward in coming forward when it came to telling Draco that he was gay; a fact that, so far as Draco knew, was limited to himself and his cousin's two best friends.  
  
Glancing once more out the final window, Draco started down a flight of stairs into the dungeons. He was on his way to the office of Professor Snape.  
  
Despite popular belief, Draco wasn't the natural at potions he seemed. He had achieved his position as top of the class by dint of hard work - and knowing which questions to ask. He had a question right now, and didn't want to wait until the next class to ask it of his professor.  
  
Draco skipped the last few steps and ran a few paces down the hall. When he slowed back to a sedate walk, one hand drifted to the cold stone of the wall, and he idly dragged it along after him. Humming a disjointed tune, he deliberately took a wrong turn, simply to prolong his solitary meandering.  
  
When, eventually, he reached Professor Snape's office, he paused momentarily to compose himself - it would never do for his Head of House to see him with a particularly gormless expression on his face - before knocking on the door.  
  
No reply. Draco raised his fist and knocked harder. The door slipped its jamb and stood slightly ajar, but again, no reply. Draco peered through the gap into the office. What small part he could see was empty. But Professor Snape never left his office without spell-locking the door. He couldn't be far away. Draco rested a hesitant palm on the rough wood of the door and called through the gap.  
  
'Professor?'  
  
It didn't surprise him when, again, only silence greeted him. In all likelihood, the professor was enthralled in his work to the point of losing track of his surroundings. With an almost furtive glance about the deserted hall, Draco pushed the door further open and slipped inside the empty office. He blinked. The office that had been the same for the past six years had changed. Where there had been before a cold austere room, warmth and comfort reigned.  
  
A hot fire blazed on the hearth. On the bare stone floor before it lay a deep green hearthrug. A couch upholstered in the same colour, stood against the wall opposite the professor's desk; this wall had previously held a rather ghoulish collection of specimens that were now tucked neatly away in a glass-fronted cupboard by the door that led to the Potions Classroom. Bright torches burned in the all the wall sconces, where before only the ones behind the desk were ever lit. In fact, the only constant in the room was the desk itself, and its broad-backed chair.  
  
Draco's eyebrows mounted into his fringe as he stared wide-eyed at the transformed room. When last he'd been in here at the beginning of the year, it had been as it ever was. So when did this happen? And, more importantly, what the hell had gotten into his Professor that he would make such radical changes to his office?  
  
Draco shook his head vigorously and decided that it would better to focus on his own question rather than to try and figure out who had kidnapped his teacher and who the man was that had taken his place. Gingerly, he settled himself on the - surprisingly comfortable - new couch. Despite evidence to the contrary, Snape wouldn't have changed so much as to leave his office unlocked; he had to be near. Keeping an ear out for the sound of returning footsteps, Draco continued to catalogue the changes to the office.  
  
Over his initial shock, he started to notice lesser differences as well; the small things that made the room seem lived in, rather than simply used. The books lining the shelves were no longer simply potions texts; interspersed among them now was the occasional novel. There were two quills on the desk; one propped neatly in its stand, the other lying carelessly at one end of the desk, dripping green ink over what looked to be a seventh- year potions text. Over the back of a wingback armchair, tucked into one corner, was a throw embroidered with the Slytherin snake.  
  
Draco suppressed a small shudder at the thought of what all these changes might herald. When a sound issued forth from beyond the classroom door, Draco leapt to his feet, relieved at the distraction. He hurried across the room. Pulling the door open, he stepped into the classroom, expecting to find the Potions Master enthralled in his work.  
  
Unlike the office behind him, the classroom was only dimly lit and it took Draco a moment to locate the professor. Movement on the far side of the room attracted his eye. Professor Snape was there bent over a desk. And on the desk..  
  
Draco blanched.  
  
Well, the professor was certainly enthralled, but one wouldn't exactly call what he was doing work.  
  
Draco's mind slowed and the world slipped into surreality. On the desk before Professor Snape sat a shirtless young man, his legs propped up on stools and the professor standing between those legs. As Draco reluctantly watched, the young man leant forward, placing his lips on Snape's neck. Snape moaned, tilting his head back before turning suddenly and capturing those lips in a fierce kiss. It was the turn of the young man to moan as Snape nipped and sucked at his lips.  
  
Unable to tear his eyes away, Draco was forced to witness as Snape laid his young partner back onto the desk and followed him down. The young man's legs came up and twined about Snape's hips, pulling him closer as he turned his attention to the bare chest beneath him. Moans echoed in Draco's ears as Snape teased his lover with his lips, teeth and tongue.  
  
His eyes still glued to the pair before him, Draco started to back towards the office. All he wanted to do was get away without being noticed. Unfortunately, either luck was not with him tonight, or the gods felt like a good old laugh at his expense. He backed into a stack of glass beakers.  
  
In fear of discovery, Draco finally found the strength to tear his gaze away from Snape and his partner. In a vain attempt to prevent the inevitable, Draco dove after the beakers as they toppled. Falling well short, Draco watched with horrified eyes as the glass beakers hit the hard flagstones with a god-awful racket. He tried to swallow against a suddenly dry throat. He just *knew* he was dead.  
  
When Draco had summoned the courage to look up, Snape was halfway across the room towards him, a thunderous expression clouding his face. Draco scrambled to his feet, and quaked in his shoes when the Potions Master spoke.  
  
'Malfoy,' danger dripped from the professor's voice, 'What are you doing here?'  
  
'Pro-Profes.. umm, Sir. I was.. I was just.. leaving! Yeah, that's it! I was just leaving.' Turning on one heel, Draco darted back towards the open door of the office. He was halted midstep when the cold, harsh voice sounded behind him again.  
  
'Malfoy.' Draco reluctantly turned back to his Head of House, 'You will not leave until *I* *say* you may.'  
  
Draco did his best not to cower as his mind informed him of its intention to shutdown at any further provocation. Snape took a menacing step towards the student and slipped one hand into his robes, withdrawing his wand. Draco closed his eyes tightly as Snape raised the wand and pointed it directly at him.  
  
Moments later, Draco cracked one eye open when the expected curse failed to hit. Snape's wand had been stayed by a hand on his wrist. The professor was glaring down at it. As Draco chanced opening both eyes, the owner of the hand stepped forward into full view. Draco's gaze traced up the arm to the body. Snape's young lover was back in his shirt, and the customary glasses were perched on his nose.  
  
Draco choked. His mouth went dry, doing a credible impression the Sahara Desert, and his face could have reviled Nearly Headless Nick's for paleness.  
  
'Har-RY?' Draco's voice broke and his mind made good on its earlier threat and shutdown, and Draco did a very unMalfoy-like thing; he fainted.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Draco couldn't remember anything beyond walking down the dungeon hallway when he woke up. He had no idea what had happened or how he'd gotten here, wherever 'here' was. And his head ached. He cautiously slitted his eyes open. Well, he was still in the dungeons, so he couldn't have been out of it too long. Draco shifted slightly and realised he was lying on something soft. He stilled. There was nothing soft in, or about Snape's office. Slowly, he turned his head and was confronted with dark green fabric. ~ Oh. ~  
  
Suddenly, Draco distinctly remembered entering a much-changed Potions Master's office. Closing his eyes again, Draco strained to recall what had happened next. ~ Let's see. I made it to Snape's office all right. The door was open. And what the hell? What's gotten into Snape that he changed his office? I mean, the room stays *exactly* the same for over six years, then suddenly - ~ Draco cut short this line of thought, deciding instead to concentrate on remembering what happened. ~ Okay, so after that.. I went into the classroom and.. and saw.. ~ Suddenly images of Harry and Snape all over each other assaulted Draco's vision. His eyes flashed open and he stared blankly at the ceiling.  
  
~ Nope. Must have hit my head *before* that, cuz there's no way in *hell* that was for real. ~ Having convinced himself the images were the result of a concussion, Draco relaxed back into the couch.  
  
Satisfied with his version of events, Draco turned his head towards the rest of the room. He needed to reassure himself that he was indeed in Professor Snape's office, despite the transformation. Sure enough, there was the desk untouched by whatever had wrecked havoc with the rest of the room. Snape was even firmly implanted in his customary place on the other side of it. And on the arm of his chair..  
  
~ Oh dear. ~  
  
On the arm of Snape's chair, one arm stretched across the back was none other than Harry Potter. Once again, Draco found it impossible to tear his gaze from the tableau. As he watched, Harry leant in and kissed Snape's jaw, just below his ear.  
  
Draco's mind was shutting down again and the only coherent thought he could piece together was ~ I wonder if they'd mind if I fainted again? ~  
  
Draco was trying to convince himself that fainting again probably wasn't a good idea when Snape turned his head and captured Harry's lips in a passionate kiss. Confronted with this new incongruity, Draco decided to do so anyway.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
When Draco came to again, Harry and Snape were standing by the couch, evidently discussing him.  
  
'It would really be simplest if I preformed a basic memory charm,' Snape's acerbic voice was saying, but Harry's lighter tones broke in urgently.  
  
'No! Sev! He's my friend. Just let me talk to him. Please?'  
  
A noise of disagreement. The sound of lips meeting. Harry's voice again.  
  
'How about this. You let me talk to him first, then -' again the noise of dissent '- *then* if he doesn't agree, you can use your memory charm.'  
  
Silence. A light growl. The sound of one set of footsteps moving away. Suddenly an acrid scent was stinging Draco's nostrils and his eyes were watering. Opening them wide, he swatted at the wand under his nose. Harry was standing over him, his glasses slipping off the end of his nose, grinning at Draco's expression. Draco glared at him. Harry's grin widened.  
  
'Welcome back to the world of the living, sleeping beauty.'  
  
Not being familiar with muggle fairytales, Draco settled for the always- useful 'Huh?'  
  
Harry nudged Draco's hip. When Draco sat up, he claimed a seat on the couch beside him, 'You fainted.'  
  
Draco snorted, 'You would have too, if you'd walked in on what I did.'  
  
Harry's cheeks flamed red-hot, and he quickly looked away. Draco grinned. Pushing himself further upright, Draco opened his mouth to further his small revenge. A dark voice stopped him from saying anything.  
  
'Mr Malfoy,' Snape was back in his chair, staring blackly over steepled fingers at Draco, 'I agreed to let Harry talk to you before I did things my way. If you do not watch yourself, I will do as I wished, and obliviate your memory regardless.'  
  
Harry snapped his head back at Snape's words and glared at him. Snape simply quirked a brow at him and Harry sighed. Snape smirked and turned his disconcerting gaze back to Draco. Draco swallowed weakly and diverted his own gaze towards Harry. Harry was looking at him again and the colour in his cheeks had subsided slightly.  
  
The cousins stared at each other for a long moment, neither saying a word. Draco could still feel the professor's sharp gaze on the side of his face, but Snape didn't say anything either. Suddenly, Harry's gaze sharpened and Draco found his eyes locked to his cousin's.  
  
'Draco, you can't tell anyone what you saw.' Draco blinked at the seriousness in Harry's tone. Harry said no more, and Draco did not immediately reply. Silence reigned in the office again. Harry still stared intently at Draco, and Draco stared right back. Behind his eyes, Draco was quickly re-evaluating everything he knew of Harry, Snape and their interaction with one another. Considering the two involved, Draco knew there had to be more to the relationship then what he had seen. Draco chose his words with care, his eyes never leaving Harry's face.  
  
'What, exactly, *did* I see?'  
  
All three men knew the question went beyond the obvious, even though Harry flushed again at the inadvertent innuendo. Disjointedly, Draco noted that Harry was easily embarrassed. Harry darted a quick glance at the dark man behind the desk. Whatever message was conveyed in that brief look seemed to reassure Harry; he was composed again when he faced Draco once more.  
  
'As cliché as it may sound, you saw two people in love.' Curiously, Harry showed no hint of embarrassment at this announcement. Draco stared at him, measuring the levelness of his gaze. When he looked at Snape, he found the black eyes just as level as Harry's. Draco nodded shortly, accepting Harry's words, and settled back comfortably, waiting for him to continue.  
  
'There are things I know about both of you that I would like to reveal, but first I need your permission?' Harry glanced from his cousin to his lover and back again. 'You know the things I mean. Dumbledore can kill me later, but I'm sick of keeping secrets from everybody. I'd just like to have at least a few people who know everything I do.'  
  
Snape unlaced his fingers and placed his hands on his desk, leaning forward over them, 'Harry, I don't think -'  
  
Harry interrupted, 'It's okay Sev, really it is.'  
  
Earnestly, he turned to Draco, 'He'll only believe me if I can tell him. And of course you won't let me tell him until I tell *you*, will you?'  
  
Draco grimly shook his head and Harry sighed.  
  
'Ah, the proverbial paradox. Neither of you will let me tell the other without first knowing what it is I know. All I can say is neither of you is in any danger from the other.'  
  
Both Slytherins looked at Harry as though he was crazy. Simultaneously, they opened their mouths and said in a cautioning tone of voice, 'Harry-'  
  
They broke off and glared suspiciously at one another. Harry laughed.  
  
'You should see your expressions.'  
  
His face settled into a sober mien, 'But you're both being stupid.'  
  
He turned first to his cousin.  
  
'Draco, I'm the Boy Who Lived. Do you really think I would take up with a known Death Eater if I didn't trust him completely?'  
  
Draco shook his head reluctantly, never taking his eyes from Snape's face. Harry snorted and turned to his lover.  
  
'And Sev, you know me better than that. Draco is not his father. I trust him just as I trust you. Did you think for a moment I'd *ever* consider putting you in danger?'  
  
Snape just as reluctantly shook his head, all the while glaring at his Slytherin student.  
  
'Good.' Harry grinned widely, unnoticed by either of the other men, 'So, do you both trust me as much as I trust you?'  
  
The two men nodded, gazes still locked together.  
  
'Wonderful,' Harry proclaimed. Then, loudly enough to ensure that they would both hear, but no one else could, he said, 'Sev, Draco is my cousin and had absolutely no desire to be a Death Eater. Draco, Severus is only a Death Eater for the purposes of spying for Dumbledore.'  
  
Pleased with himself, Harry settled back on the couch and awaited the inevitable reactions. He wasn't disappointed.  
  
The heads of Draco and Severus snapped around when he started speaking, identical expression of shock mixed with fear on their faces.  
  
'Harry -!' they both started to protest, but stopped when all of what he'd said sank in. Their eyes widened and they turned back to each other.  
  
Harry grinned, 'See? I told you you weren't in any danger from each other. Now aren't you glad you trusted me?'  
  
Snape sighed and rubbed his eyes, 'Harry, you're crazy.'  
  
Harry smirked, a typically Snape expression. 'I know, but you still love me.'  
  
Snape smirked back at him, 'Yes, I do. Although I've yet to figure out why.'  
  
Draco watched this by-play between the two unusual lovers with a bemused expression. He'd never seen Professor Snape act like this. Hell, he hadn't even seen much of this side of Harry. It was.. different, to say the least. He rubbed his closed fist over cool fabric of couch's arm. Suddenly he realised something.  
  
'Ha! Its you! You're responsible for this!' Draco bounced to his feet, pointing an accusing finger at Harry, who sat before him, a shocked expression on his face. A sharp clatter behind him had Draco glancing over his shoulder. Snape had risen suddenly from the desk, sending the chair crashing to the floor. One hand was clenched around his wand and his eyes were slightly wild, but he'd realised Draco was not going to harm Harry.  
  
It occurred to Draco that this was an instinctive reaction to a supposed threat to Harry. If the threat had been real - Draco gulped.  
  
'Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you,' he said in a small voice and gingerly reclaimed his seat on the couch. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Snape righted his seat and sat again. He was distracted when Harry spoke to him.  
  
'What am I responsible for?' he said, drawing Draco's eyes back to him.  
  
'This,' Draco made a gesture that encompassed the entire room, 'you changed it all.'  
  
An amused look entered Harry's eyes as he followed Draco's gesture about the room, 'Well, only partially. I convinced Sev to change a couple of things, but he chose the décor. All that green is just too Slytherin for me.'  
  
Harry grinned slyly then, 'Of course, I specifically requested a few pieces. The couch and hearthrug, for instance. I'm sure you don't want to know why.'  
  
Draco felt his face flush as he picked up on Harry's implied meaning. Harry smirked evilly and Snape laughed, actually laughed.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Two hours later, Draco emerged from Professor Snape's office, thoughts swirling about his head. Barely three hours earlier, he had entered this corridor with firm ideas about Harry Potter and Professor Severus Snape. And in less time then it took to brew a good veritaserum, they had been effectively turned on their head.  
  
To think that his reclusive, taciturn Potions Professor and his outgoing, golden cousin were lovers. Draco's worldview required some major adjustment to accept this new truth. Draco had been shown a side of Severus Snape he had never suspected actually existed.  
  
As the door drifted shut behind him, Draco cast one last look over his shoulder. Through the narrowing gap, he could see his cousin and potions professor standing in the middle of the room. Harry was watching the door swing closed, and Professor Snape was standing behind his shoulder. As the door slowly eclipsed the view, Draco saw Severus wrap one long arm about Harry's waist and pull his young lover back against him. Harry covered the hand at his hip with his own and turned from the door to meet the fond gaze staring down at him. Slow, sweet and tender smiles spread across both faces.  
  
More than anything Draco had seen throughout the night, this simple act brought home to him just how serious these two men were about each other. The door clicked shut and Draco turned down the hall. A soft sigh slipped from his lips. If had nothing else in this life, he hoped he would someday have a love like that.  
  
As he made his way back to the Slytherin common room, Draco realised he had forgotten to ask Professor Snape his question. 


End file.
